


That Ghost Looks Like Tommy, Innit?

by NeverEndingEdge



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Ghost TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gore, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Insane Wilbur Soot, Manipulation, Memory Loss, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Toby Smith | Tubbo Misses TommyInnit, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Trust Issues, Villain Wilbur Soot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28917345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverEndingEdge/pseuds/NeverEndingEdge
Summary: Tommy gets caught up in the explosion at the Manberg Festival and Wilbur, instead of asking Phil to kill him, runs to see if Tommy is okay.(Or Alternatively: Tommy becomes a ghost instead of Wilbur.)
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 30
Kudos: 658





	1. The Last of TommyInnit

Everything was hazy and the air reeked of smoke. Tommy coughed into his fist, eyes widening when he realized his fists were covered with blood and burns, as well as the fact that he was laying on his stomach and not in Pogtopia.

He tried to get up, but a sharp pain ran down his spine while something heavy was preventing him from standing up. 

He sighed as he rested his head on the stone floor. Distantly, he heard yelling. Tommy rolled his head to his left and he saw a figure. He didn't know who it was but their mouth was moving, so he realized they must be talking to him. 

Tommy tried to tune in, but everything sounded muffled. He could only make out sections of the voice.

"Tommy, stay aw-k- f-r me, oka-?"

Tommy just stared until his eyes made out blonde hair and a pair of familiar blue eyes.

"T'bbo?"

His voice came out scratchy. The person, Tubbo, shook their head, "Yeah, it's me."

Slowly, the cotton-like feeling faded and he could hear. People were yelling, others crying and he couldn't figure out where they were coming from.

Tommy's eyes darted around. He was in a massive hole and when he looked up, he finally learned all the noise was coming from above him.

"Where are we?" Tommy asked, pausing, "Where's Wilb'r?"

He looked back at Tubbo, noticing that Tubbo was trembling, his clothes bloody and tattered, and his eyes teary.

"He's here, Tommy, He-He'll be here," Tubbo said, clutching his hand and holding it to his chest like a lifeline with his eyes squeezed shut.

"T'bbo, why 're you lookin' so sad?" Tommy asked.

Tubbo shook his head, and tears rolled down his cheeks. "I'm not sad."

Tommy realized that he couldn't feel his legs, but he could feel his lower back. It flared in pain.

"Why does it hurt so bad?" Tommy asked as black spots appeared and disappeared in his vision. 

That sentence seemed to make Tubbo break, because he started sobbing, loudly, one of his hands letting go of his hand in an attempt to wipe the tears off his face. 

"Tubbo, don't cry, it's okay." Tommy whispered, his voice cracking.

The sound of footsteps became noticeable and Tommy turned away from Tubbo to the new figures standing above him, ones who he recognized as Phil and Wilbur. 

Wilbur fell to his knees, a strange look in his eyes, a look he hasn't seen in ages, back when they were all living happily in L'Manburg.

"Tommy, I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. I never meant for...this to happen!" Wilbur yelled. 

Tommy's ears rang and a sting grew in his ear, but he couldn't flinch back with the little energy he had left.

The black dots returned, dancing around, but this time, they didn't disappear.

"My ears 're ringin' an' shit an' everything is loud." Tommy said, his hand hovering over his ear. 

Wilbur gave an apologetic look.

"'M sleepy an' there's black dots everywhere." Tommy continued, as he let the hand in the air fall limp.

"No, Tommy, you don't want to go to sleep right now." Phil said, knealing down next to Wilbur. 

They went silent for a moment. Tommy lifted his right hand and reached out. Wilbur grabbed his hand and held it tight.

"Wilb'r, 'm scared." Tommy mumbles with half-lidded eyes, "'M I gon' die?"

Wilbur stays quiet and his grip on his hand tightens. Tommy feared for the worst. He realizes his eyes are wet and that he was crying. Tommy just wanted the pain filling his senses to stop and the drowsiness overwhelming him wasn't helping a single bit. 

Tommy's eyes slip shut, but open again once a hand is patting his cheek. "Tommy, you ca-t sl-ep no-." The voice seems to waver, or maybe his brain was just going all wonky.

Before Tommy realizes it, his eyes close again, but this time, Tommy doesn't have enough energy to open them again, no matter how much the voices beg him to. 

But he distantly hears Tubbo crying, so Tommy musters all of his energy into opening his eyes, although all he can manage is a squint. He opens his mouth to speak, or at least whisper, but his voice won't come out.

Tommy squeezes Wilbur and Tubbo's hands one last time, as almost a final goodbye, before letting himself drift away. 

Away from the pain.

________

Tommy wakes up, and he's cold. He can't seem to remember anything but he's in a hole near a large rock.

He inspects the area. The said rock was covered in red.

Red. What a beautiful color.


	2. Tea by the Fireplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil tries to talk to Wilbur about what happened. Meanwhile, Tubbo meets his friend, who is much different than he remembers.

Tubbo brushed his fingers along the lines of aged wood of his and Tommy's old bench, staring off at the midnight sky, full of bright, twinkling lights. 

He can't help but remember all the nights he and Tommy would do this. They would stay up late just to see the stars align in the sky. Yet, Tubbo looks to his left and Tommy's not there. 

He can't help but wonder why Tommy left him. 

Phil had moved on, and so had anyone else. He thought he moved on as well.

(But why does it hurt so bad?)

He had fought in wars, he could handle it. He had handled many things like this before and he should've gotten used to it by now. He can't understand why it's so hard.

It's so painfully quiet, even with music playing (He doesn't recall which disc it was, he just shoved one in, desperate to get away from the oh-so-loud silence. He can't hear the music, it sounds so distant. How is it so quiet, yet so loud at the same time?)

It's been two months since 'The Red Festival', as some called it. Everyone took a week off for mourning then got back to the normal routine. 

Really, Tubbo should've been able to as well, but he just can't seem to have the energy to get himself out of bed some days or get up to at least take a bite of an apple, or even have a care in the world about his hygiene.

Tubbo usually stayed lounging around his house or sitting on the ol' bench. Phil told him it was normal and that he was just in mourning but he knew the man was just trying to make him feel better. He appreciated it, nonetheless.

Recently, the loss of his friend's presence by his side made everything seem so hard, and listening to the music discs didn't help nearly as much as he thought it would. 

Tubbo looks back at the empty space next to him and tears gather in his eyes. He lets out a quiet sob before he can stop himself. He wipes the tears away and pulls the music disc out, which he vaguely notices is Mellohi. He puts it in his pocket as he lets out another cry. He shoves his hand in his palms, gripping on his hair, desperately trying to get away from the pain of remembering Tommy.

He misses him so much and he can't even deny it.

He hates what it's done to him. He knows Tommy would've hated to see him like this. 

"Tubbo, why are you crying?", he could almost hear Tommy say, and it sounded too real.

Tubbo wailed into his hands once he realized there were no ways to stop his tears. Everything hurt and he didn't want to remember. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and it feels cold and chilling, but most of all, comforting. Tubbo leans desperately into the source of contact and he's pulled into a hug.

"Don't cry. When you cry," The voice, which sounds too much like Tommy, says," I cry."

Tubbo goes rigid in the stranger's arms before snapping his head upwards. 

His brown eyes met dull, icy blue ones and Tubbo stared in shock.

"Tommy?"

_________

Phil breathed in the sharp scent of cinnamon and grounded herbs as it drifted throughout the kitchen. The lanterns hung from the ceiling radiate a low light, encompassing the room in a golden glow. 

His eyes darted over to where Wilbur was sitting on a stool in front of the fireplace, his face hidden in the palms of his hands. 

He sighs and tops the lid to his tea kettle and walks over to where his firewood sat in a mound, half leaning against the brick chimney built into his living room. He replaces the wood in the fireplace and grabs a stool to sit next to Wilbur.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" Phil asked, unwinding at the warmth of the fire making contact with his skin, coming in waves and spreading throughout his body.

Wilbur lifts his head from his hands and looks at him, meeting his eyes. Phil notices the puffiness in Wilbur's and feels a pit grow in his chest. Wilbur shakes his head and turns to the fire again, the reds and golds reflecting in his glossy eyes.

Phil sighed. He wasn't going to push it. Instead, he'd wait until Wilbur was ready to talk. Of course, he knew the reason why Wilbur was upset but it would be better for his son to explain it himself.

After the festival, a funeral was held. For such a tragic day, the sun seemed to shine so much brighter than ever before, although nobody seemed to notice, all too blinded by their own grief.

As far as Phil knew, barely anyone had taken Tommy's death well.

He hadn't seen Tubbo out of his house for a while, and the last time he saw him, his eyes were red-rimmed and distant, staring off at something nobody else could see. Tubbo pushed everyone away and Phil couldn't help but feel bad for the poor kid. As much as he offered to help, though, Tubbo had always waved him off.

Wilbur had run off for a while to take what Phil assumed was a break. Wilbur had visited him and told him he was sorry. Phil responded as anyone would and said he was disappointed and that he didn't forgive him just yet, but after a while, Wilbur was forgiven nevertheless, under the conditions that he tried to work on his issues, to which Wilbur reluctantly accepted.

Techno settled down for retirement somewhere very far from L'Manberg, somewhere covered in snow. Phil didn't know how the incident had affected him, and to be honest, he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

As for Dream, Phil thought the man could've at least had the decency to look at least the slightest bit mournful at the funeral. (Personally, Phil thought the man didn't have the right to attend Tommy's funeral at all but on the other hand, he'd take anyone he could get to attend. The Dream SMP only had so many people)

Phil couldn't say he was doing so well, but he remained strong for those who depended on him. Phil continued with his life, carrying on with his daily tasks, and eventually, so did everyone else.

Wilbur came to terms with the fact that not everyone in L'Manberg would ever be able to truly forgive him and he moved in with Phil.

Phil has been trying to get Wilbur to budge but it seemed he just wasn't ready.

"It's my fault," Wilbur finally said, shaking Phil from his thoughts. "And you know it. Everyone knows it, Phil."

Phil opened his mouth but no words fell out. He wished he had something to say, something to ease his worries but he knew he'd just be lying. Wilbur sighed.

"I can't even bring myself to call you dad anymore. There's a distance that's grown between us and I fear it'll just keep getting larger."

Wilbur turned to him again with such a sad look in his eyes. God, Phil didn't know if he could handle this right now.

Phil hovered a hand to Wilbur's shoulder before deciding against it (especially after the last time he tried). "You never intended for Tommy to die," Phil said. It was weak, but it was the least he could do.

Wilbur's eyes watered and he shook his head, "Phil, you have no idea what I did to Tommy, even before his-his-" Wilbur gulped, hesitating, "-his death."

"It couldn't have been that bad", Phil said with a hopeful tone to his voice, but it didn't seem to ease Wilbur's worries. In fact, it just made it worse.

"You wouldn't know, you weren't even there! You just don't understand!", Wilbur yelled, standing up suddenly, sending his stool rolling across the room.

Phil swallowed painfully past the tight closing in his throat. "Yeah, you're right. I don't understand, but you can help me understand. Please, just tell me what happened." Phil said.

Wilbur hesitated before pulling the stool upright and sitting down again.

Phil looked at Wilbur, his eyes full of patience.

Wilbur, after a while, sighed, "I can't, not yet."

Phil has to resist the urge to pull him into a hug and hold him tightly. Instead, he nods understandingly and stares back into the warm fire embers with Wilbur, a man who he fears is right. (A man who he fears he can't call his son anymore.)

_________

"Tommy?"

Tommy, or perhaps a figment of his imagination, looked rather confused.

"Yeah, that's me, Tubbo." His friend said, and goodness was he pale. 

Tubbo hesitantly poked Tommy with his finger and surprisingly, his finger didn't go through. With watery eyes, Tubbo threw himself into Tommy's chest, gripping him tightly to make sure he couldn't disappear.

Tommy ran a chill hand up and down his back comfortingly and that was the final straw for Tubbo. He broke into tears and grasped Tommy's red and white shirt in handfuls.

Tommy whispered reassuring words into his ear until Tubbo finally gained somewhat of a composure.

Clearing his throat, Tubbo disattached himself from Tommy, but making sure not to let go of his hand.

Tubbo looked at Tommy's pale grey face. Along with that, multiple attributes of Tommy was monotone, which honestly wasn't fitting for his loud nature.

"How are you..." Tubbo started, glancing down at his and Tommy's intertwined hands, "Here?"

"What do you mean?"

Tubbo looked back into Tommy's eyes. "B-But a few weeks ago, you w-were...dead! You were dead, gone!"

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "But I'm right here?"

Tubbo tapped his foot against the ground. "I know! That's what I'm trying to figure out."

Tubbo stood, letting go of Tommy's hand. "Stay here, I need to go get Phil."

With that, Tubbo sprinted off. 

__________________

Wilbur sat alone at the fire. Phil had left due to the shrill whistle of the tea kettle. 

He wanted to tell Phil, he was so desperate to spill out all the horrible thoughts flowing through his mind and let Phil hold him.

But he withheld it and swallowed it down like the rest of his problems. He knew why he did it and it was for a pathetic reason. Wilbur was scared. There was nothing simpler to it. 

Wilbur was scared that if he told Phil, he would leave him just like everyone else. 

Before Wilbur could continue wallowing in his pity party, the door slammed open and someone ran in. He turned around to see Tubbo, who half-glared at him but it was overshadowed with the most excitement he's seen on the boy's face in a while.

"Where's Phil?" Tubbo asked with a huff.

"What do you need to ask him?" Wilbur asked in response. 

"No, I-I need to tell him something. Where is he?" Tubbo repeated more calmly, his breathing calmed down.

On cue, Phil stepped into the living room holding two cups of tea. He looked at Tubbo, nearly as surprised as Wil at the sheer happiness on his face.

"Tubbo? What's going on?" Phil asked as he handed Wilbur a cup of tea. Wilbur sipped it slowly and sighed as the refreshing liquid went down his throat.

"I saw Tommy!"

Phil froze midway pulling out an extra chair and Wilbur choked on his delicious leafy tea, spitting out what was left in his mouth. 

Phil, with a large amount of concern, approached him, and with an arm slung around his shoulder, he leads Tubbo to the fireplace. 

Wilbur watched as Tubbo sat on the seat next to him, "Tubbo, Tommy's dead." 

Tubbo turned to him and the usual glare pointed towards him had disappeared.

"But it's true! I saw him, I swear!" Turbo cried out with despair.

Phil patted Tubbo's head, sitting back into his seat, and pulled Tubbo into a hug.

"It's okay, mate. Wilbur, can you go get some tea and blankets." Phil calls over Tubbo's shoulder. 

Wilbur nods and walks off. He pauses at the doorway as he listens into the pair for a moment.

"But I really did see him, Phil." Tubbo said, dejectedly. 

Phil weaved his fingers through Tubbo's hair, "I know, Tubbo. I know. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally made the schedule! Trust me, chapters won't usually take this long to be posted. Posts will be every other Tuesday so make sure to look out for those.
> 
> Thanks for the comments last chapter, they are very fun to read. If you see any mistakes, please let me know. I am open to any constructive criticism.
> 
> Also, the sentence, '"Yeah, that's me, Tubbo." His friend said, and goodness was he pale.' was mostly left in there as a joke because I wrote the last half at 3 am and when I woke up the next day, I thought it was hilarious.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> (There will be more tags later, I promise! I just wanted to give posting a try.)
> 
> Updates on Friday and sometimes Monday or Tuesday.


End file.
